Harry Potter and the Wizarding War
by TehWriter
Summary: A new spin on the Deathly Hallows before the defeat of Voldemort.


One:

The light around him began to fade. A soft, musty smell wafted through his nostrils, causing him to snort in disgust. Sudden realization hit him, like the piercing light of a confundus charm. He sat up, sweat poured down his face like an unstoppable wave. His glasses, where were they? He didn't know. Rubbing his eyes, he felt a sting in his hand. Observing it, he noticed it was a bloody mess. A searing cut ran through his palm and down his arm. How did it happen? He didn't know.

A thump behind him alerted him that he was not alone. Shaken, he looked around. No one. Not even the wisp of a dryad. He knew he was in the forbidden forest, there was no doubt that the very smell he could sense was none other than the thickness of the forest. The familiar, lingering scent of dying trees mixed with the scent of creatures known only to wizards.

Beside the wizard was his wand, a little cracked by the handle, but still very usable. He grabbed it, chanting a spell. His glasses came from behind him, landing in the palm of his unharmed hand. He observed himself the faint reflection cast by the dim light of the night above. His scar shown red, face bloodied and bruised, lip cut down to his chin. His hair was a mess and his eyes...his eyes dark, bagged, blackened by the brutality of war.

Harry put on his glasses. The sight of the forest was nothing new to him. He remembered this area. This place. It was the last spot he saw before Voldemort cursed him with the deadliest spell. But why was he here? He wasn't sure. He looked at his hands again, almost mesmerized by the surreal realization that he was there. Impossible. The last he remembered was watching as his son, Albus Severus Potter, departed on the Hogwarts Express.

Standing, Harry felt his legs wobble, almost as if he hadn't used them in a long while. He began limping away. To where? He didn't know. He didn't care. Nothing seemed right, not to him. How could he end up in the Forbidden Forest when just earlier he watched his son go? It didn't make sense to him. And Ginny? She must be worried sick, he thought, trudging through the dense forest. How long was he gone?

Another noise caught Harry's attention. The sound of galloping. A trot of some kind. He turned, wand grasped in his clutches, aiming in the direction of the noise. He opened his mouth to command the unknown to announce their presence, but his voice was lost, almost as if a dementor sucked his voice away with his soul. The noise grew closer, faster, louder. And then, there it was. A sight so against mankind that muggles would call him a nutter. Before Harry stood a half-human, half-horse like figure. During his years at Hogwarts, Harry knew them to be centaurs. But that was ages ago. Harry didn't recognize the one before him.

The centaur bowed deep, making eye contact with Harry. "Mr Potter," it spoke. His voice one with the wind. Around its torso was a bow and a quiver of arrows. Through the dimness of the light, Harry could see that it had been harmed. A wound glistened blood near its hind quarters and its face was scarred. "You are alive." It simply stated.

Harry nodded. It was apparent to Harry that he was alive. Or at least he hoped so. Still, his voice could not break through.

"I am Magnus, friend of Firenze." Magnus introduced. His eyes never left Harry's. It was almost as if it was in distrust with Harry, although Harry wasn't sure why. "Come with me, Mr Potter." The centaur knelt down, allowing Harry to climb onto its back. It began trotting through the trees. As it swept through the trees, and low hanging branches, it spoke to Harry in a roar over its own noise. "You have been missing for days," Magnus told Harry, confirming suspicions that Harry had yet to conceive. "Quite honestly, I am surprised you are still alive and not in the belly of some mythical beast." A chuckle rang through Harry's ears.

Harry choked, then his voice met his lips. "Sorry, what?"

Magnus ducked under a dead tree, slowing his pace. "Mr Potter, your whereabouts have been unknown for many days."

Days? What exactly happened, Harry wanted to know. He rubbed his temples. "That can't be right, Magnus. I was at home just yesterday." I think anyway, he fought back to say.

The centaur stopped and twisted its torso around to face Harry. His eyes dark with seriousness. "No, Mr Potter. You have been missing. My entire herd has been looking for you. Things have changed, Mr Potter. And drastically, if I do say so myself."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "I haven't been on Hogwarts' grounds in nineteen years! Nineteen! I have a family...Ginny. I married Ginny Weasley and we have kids together. I couldn't have been gone for days; I have been gone for many years!"

"Everyone thought you were dead." His voice trailed in the breeze. He began walking again, almost as if he couldn't bear to tell Harry what has been happening. As they approached the edge of the forest, Harry could see tears swell in the centaurs' eyes. "You will soon see, Mr Potter, that whatever subconscious reality you have brewed in your thoughts are not at all real. They are just delusions of your mind."

Harry began to feel a little frustrated, but held back his tongue. "Magnus, where exactly are you taking me?"

Magnus stepped out of the forest, into the clearing. A dexterous smell of death, smoke, and rubble told Harry that what he was about to see will not be for the feint of heart. His gaze followed smoke onto a smouldering pile of rubble that once used to be the most recognizable monument to all wizards. Where he looked onto was none other than the demolished building he knew once to be Hogwarts.

A/N: This is my own personal retake on the Deathly Hallows. No hateful comments, please.


End file.
